


Opportunity Cost

by china_shop



Category: White Collar
Genre: Domestic, Episode Tag, Established Relationship, F/M, Fic, M/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-02
Updated: 2011-03-02
Packaged: 2017-10-16 01:13:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/166853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/china_shop/pseuds/china_shop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Episode tag for 2.14.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Opportunity Cost

**Author's Note:**

> Oodles of thanks to dragonfly and jumpuphigh for awesome betas, including suggestions that turned this into a very different, better and somewhat longer story. <3 <3 <3

Neal pushed the empty pizza box aside and looked at Peter and Elizabeth. They were sitting right up against each other, their chairs almost touching. Neal knew how they felt: today had been too close a call, and it was sobering to have it brought home how much they all had to lose. He kept wanting to touch Peter too, to make sure he really was safe.

Instead, he fed Satchmo his pizza crust and said, "Okay, guys? We have to talk."

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, and Peter picked up his beer bottle. "What about?"

"You had a fight about dry-cleaning," said Neal, spreading his hands wide. "I don't even know what to do with that."

Elizabeth's shoulders straightened. "Neal, that's between me and Peter. We'll figure it out."

The message was clear: No trespassing. Keep off the grass. But Neal had never been very good with boundaries, and it was supposed to be the three of them now. "Butt out, I get it. But seriously, _dry-cleaning_?"

"He's not butting out," Peter told Elizabeth.

Elizabeth smiled fondly, even as she shook her head. "He never does."

Neal set his elbows on the table and leaned forward, studying them and trying to make sense of their fight from what Peter had said earlier that day. Peter being unreliable about domestic errands was nothing new, and Elizabeth was always understanding about it. Like Neal, she knew it was part of who Peter was, part of what made him the kind of guy who could do the work he did. He didn't have a job that always let him pop out to the bank at lunchtime and clock out at six.

And one of the things Neal loved about Peter and Elizabeth's relationship was the way they accepted each other, loved each other for who they really were, quirks and all. No pedestals or fantasies getting in the way. They were happy and confident in their relationship together. So what had changed? There was one obvious answer to that, and Neal didn't like it. But something was definitely going on, some undercurrent rippling their usually serene waters. "Were you really mad with Peter?" he asked Elizabeth.

"No," she said, a faint edge of exasperation in her voice. "It wasn't a big deal. Honestly, honey, it doesn't matter."

Peter looked stubborn. "I told you, I don't want to be that guy. It might not matter now, but one day—"

"It's been ten years, and you are so far from that guy," she told him, pressing her cheek to his shoulder. "You know that. You're not him."

They seemed to have forgotten Neal was there. He held his tongue. Whoever they were talking about, whatever past was hanging over Peter, Neal could ask about it later when things weren't so fraught.

"I could be better," said Peter. "You deserve someone who—someone better."

An idea crept into Neal's head, but it was ridiculous. Peter couldn't possibly think—Still, sometimes even smart people were stupid. "A romantic?" he asked. "Someone who remembers anniversaries and knows how to pick out a gift?"

Peter glanced at him, the tips of his ears going pink. "Maybe. Yeah." He turned back to Elizabeth. "Neal would never forget the dry-cleaning."

"Only because I'd get Mozzie to pick it up for me," said Neal, blithely perjuring himself.

"I think I deserve both," said Elizabeth. "I mean, isn't that the point? I get both of you, being yourselves." She butted her head against Peter's arm. "This isn't a competition."

"It's not about that," said Peter. "I want to do better. I want to be someone you can rely on."

Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment. Neal suspected she was hiding her amusement, but when she looked at Peter, there was no trace of humor, only sincerity. "Honey, there is no one in the world I can rely on more when it counts. That's all that matters. If you can't see that—"

"He said, and I quote, 'I'm a constant disappointment'," Neal told her, betraying Peter's confidence without hesitation.

Elizabeth's forehead scrunched up, more in confusion than anything. "You said that? You _thought_ it?"

"I was having a bad day," said Peter. "It's got better since then."

"Good," said Elizabeth. "Because that's just stupid. I'm not some long-suffering wife living in a state of simmering irritation, and you know it. I'm with you because you make me happy." She shot Neal a warm look. "You too."

"I know," said Peter. "I may have temporarily lost my mind. But you just try comparing yourself with Neal." Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at him incredulously, and Peter snorted. "Okay, okay. Then you should know what I mean." The tight lines of tension in his shoulders eased, and he scratched his jaw. "You make me happy too. Listen, maybe we should get smart about this. We're all working all the time—why don't we pay someone else to do the chores?"

Elizabeth looked thoughtful. "Makes sense. You don't have a PA at work, and Yvonne doesn't do personal stuff. The least we can do is clear away some of the clutter from our off-hours."

"So we can focus on us," said Neal, approvingly.

Peter grinned at him. "Oh, now _you're_ dissatisfied? You're not getting enough attention, is that it?"

"I didn't say that!" said Neal, rolling his eyes, but grinning too. More attention was always a good thing.

"Maybe we should send Satchmo to boarding school and hire a chauffeur while we're at it," said Peter, teasing him.

Neal nodded solemnly. "The fewer extraneous commitments in our lives, the more energy we have for sex."

"Okay," said Elizabeth, laughing. She took Peter's hand. "So, here's what we're going to do. We're both going to chip in—"

"All," said Neal.

"All going to chip in," she amended without missing a beat, "to hire me a part-time assistant, who among many other work-related activities, is going to manage some of our personal errands so that we can focus on doing our jobs when we're at work and enjoy our rare moments of private time uninterrupted. This person will be responsible, professional and discreet. Peter, you'll run a thorough background check on them—"

"Misappropriating FBI resources," said Neal.

"Exactly," said Elizabeth, unrepentantly. "One of their duties will be to organize a cleaning service for this house. They may also occasionally be required to take Satchmo to the dog park. In return, we'll pay them a decent wage, including benefits and dental."

"Perfect," said Peter. He sat back, and his satisfied expression turned troubled. "Except that I should pay. And I don't want you to think we're doing this because I don't care enough to meet my responsibilities."

"We all foot the bill." Elizabeth cupped his cheek. "This isn't failure, honey. It's commonsense. You're right: we have a lot going on—"

"I'm very time-consuming," said Neal, getting up and skirting the table, because he couldn't keep his distance any longer.

Elizabeth grinned up at him. "You are. And I for one would much rather be spending quality time with the two of you than organizing someone to fix the dishwasher."

Peter glanced at the kitchen door in alarm. "Is it leaking again?"

"It's fine," said Elizabeth. "Forget the dishwasher."

Neal stood behind Peter and gripped his shoulders, pressing him down into his seat in case he decided the appliance took precedence over more important things. He bent and murmured in Peter's ear, "Your services are otherwise required."

Peter gave a deep, contented sigh and leaned back so his head rested against Neal's belly. "Oh, I know how to delegate. It's El you have to worry about."

Elizabeth looked rueful. "I can learn."

Neal bent to give her a leisurely, lightly seductive kiss. "Every day is a gift. You have to savor them."

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Your approval of this scheme is just because you don't like housework, isn't it?"

Neal grinned back at her. "You love me for who I am, remember?"

Peter laughed under his breath, and Elizabeth said, "I do. Both of you." She stood up and pulled Peter after her, and they all hugged. Peter kissed Elizabeth, both of them utterly unself-conscious in Neal's presence. "Thank you."

She shook her head at him. "I'm just so relieved you're safe. You could have been killed today!"

Her voice wobbled, and Neal and Peter tightened their hold on her. Peter smoothed her hair. "But I wasn't. I'm home with you and Neal, and I'm fine."

Neal closed his eyes and gave thanks for that. Then he looked at Peter and raised one eyebrow. "I'm sorry, I'm going to have to insist on proof of life."

A spark warmed Peter's gaze. "What did you have in mind?"

"I have some ideas," Neal told him with a leer.

"I think your ideas are giving me ideas," said Elizabeth. She still sounded a little shaky, but she was covering well.

Neal kissed her forehead, then her mouth. "Maybe we need to compare ideas," he suggested.

"Upstairs," said Elizabeth. "Mmm, yes. Honey?"

Peter hugged them both tightly. "That's the best idea I've heard all day." His hand strayed down Neal's back, below his waist, making Neal's pulse pick up, and Elizabeth pushed forward into the triangle of their embrace, and it was perfect. A gift. Definitely a moment to savor.


End file.
